


still sad about hoechlin leaving

by ophelianipples



Series: back to Hogwarts [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3538118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophelianipples/pseuds/ophelianipples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Scott and Stiles are on their way to Care of Magical Creatures when Stiles spots Derek inside one of the Potions labs. He throws out an arm to stop Scott in his tracks.

"Dude, it looks like someone's jinxed him!"

 

Derek is lying on the ground, stiff and unmoving. Scott and Stiles hurry into the room and Scott tries to reverse the jinx, to no avail. The only part of Derek that can move is his eyes - they are wide and, as per usual, angry.

 

Stiles looks at the desk next to them. A clear, gooey liquid has spilled out of the cauldron. "Hey, what's - oh. Uh oh." 

 

~~~~

 

Derek groans and rolls his eyes when he realises that the ones to find him, out of the whole fucking school, are  _Stiles Stilinski_ and  _Scott McCall._ But it should be okay as long as they don't touch the paralytic potion he had been working on. He watches as they try to reverse a jinx (seriously? His spilled cauldron was right there, and they thought someone had  _jinxed_ him?).

Then he watches Stiles approach the bench. Please, for the love of God, don't touch the fucking potion, Derek thinks, glaring daggers at Stiles in the hope that he will get the message. 

 

Of course he doesn't.

 

Stiles collapses right on top of Derek, a sheepish expression frozen onto his face. Derek really doesn't need the feeling of Stiles's muscled chest against his to be added to his dream repertoire, so he passes the time by imagining all the ways he can kill Stiles once they're out of this ridiculous predicament. 

 

~~~~

 

Scott manages to stop laughing his ass off for long enough to catch the murderous look in Derek's eyes. 

 

"Oh, right, sorry," he grins, and reaches down to roll Stiles off Derek's chest. Now they're lying side by side, and it looks as if they're holding hands. Scott has already taken a photo and is still doubled over with laughter when Professor Harris, the Potions master, walks into the classroom. That shuts him up.

 

"What the devil is going on here?" Harris sneers down at Stiles and Derek before turning to Scott for an answer.

 

"Uh - oh, man, um, well, I think they touched some of that stuff - here, on the bench - and it paralysed them... or something?" Scott offers politely, his mouth twitching with the effort of not laughing.

 

Professor Harris takes a look at the goo on the table and gives a long-suffering sigh.

 

"Hale's Potions homework, I expect." 

 

He nudges the two paralysed teens with his foot. 

 

"You two degenerates are lucky I already have the antidote brewed. You will both attend Thursday detention for a month for wasting my time."

 

 Scott wishes he could use instagram in the castle - the twin looks of horror on Derek and Stiles's faces are worth another photo.

 

 

 


	2. detention

Harris leaves the room and Stiles lasts about 2 minutes before he is compelled to speak. 

"Wow, this detention isn't actually that bad, I mean growing up with a muggle dad gave me a lot of experience with the good ol'  _scrubbing_ and  _spraying_ technique, let me tell you."

 

Cringe. Cringe, so much internal cringing is happening right now but Stiles and silence are not a good mix. He scrubs at the plaque, resigned to his fate...

 

"I mean, I bet you never had to scrub a toilet in your house did you? Now that's what I call pureblood privilege. You probably never had to clean out your gutters from the top of a ladder, did you?"   


 

…his incredibly embarrassing fate. He's about to start informing Derek about the best muggle ways to remove mould from your bathroom roof when the unthinkable happens.  _Derek interrupts._  


_Derek willingly speaks to him._

 

"Wasn't your mother a witch?"  


 

Okay, so it's not ideal, but Stiles will take what he can get. 

 

"Firstly, dude, it's creepy that you know that? Secondly, she's dead. Finally, she was a sadist who enjoyed making her beloved son do backbreaking chores around the house without any magical help because that's what  _she_  had to do when she was a kid."

 

He swallows back the lump in his throat that comes with thinking about her. It's been six years but it still hurts, the  _injustice_ of it still hurts. She was the target of a hate crime - a muggle-born Auror can't help making enemies, even years after the War.

 

He realises he's been polishing this plaque for way longer than necessary, and steps back to pick a new one. He doesn't look at Derek - doesn't need to see what 'pity' looks like on his perpetually grumpy face.

But then again.. he would like to know what extreme discomfort and regret looks like on Derek. He sneaks a look and can't help snorting in laughter a little. Derek's eyes are wide and he honestly looks kind of constipated. He keeps opening his mouth and closing it as if he wants to say something but keeps second guessing himself. His hand is awkwardly hovering in the space between them and he snatches it back when he notices Stiles watching.

It's almost  _cute._  


Scratch that, it  _is_ cute. Who knew Derek Hale was concerned about other peoples' feelings?

 

"Dude, don't worry about it. It's good to be able to talk about her sometimes. Most people avoid the topic like the friggin plague."

 

Derek finally forces a sound out of his mouth. "Uh - okay." He doesn't meet Stiles's eyes. Stiles grins, punches him in the shoulder casually.

 

"Come on, man, we have a lot of shit to get clean.  _Muggle style."_  


 

Some of the tension seeps out of Derek's shoulders (his broad, _sexy_ shoulders) and they get back to work, Stiles chattering happily. He figures he gets a free pass to babble as much as he want after Derek's little faux pas just then. He even catches Derek smiling a few times. And knowing that  _Stiles_ put that secret smile on his face, well… he's actually kind of disappointed they only have one detention together. 

 


	3. damnit greenberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it turns out Greenberg is an asshole, I kinda threw him under the bus for the sake of getting Derek and Stiles back in detention together haha

  
Of course, the only logical solution that problem is to get them both in detention again somehow. Getting Stiles in detention is easy enough - Harris hates him with a passion. Stiles spends more Thursdays in detention than out, to be honest, and he spends a good two weeks imagining ways to get Derek in detention with him. 

In the end though, he doesn't even have to try.

~~~

 

Derek turns up to detention on time and glares at Harris from the back row of seats. His task for today, apparently, is to put Hogwarts stickers on to owl tags. Manually. For two hours. 

It's so mind-numbingly boring that he feels actual relief when Stiles walks through the door. The kid is annoying as fuck but at least he won't be sitting in silence. And if Harris doesn't let them talk, well... at least he'll have something nice to look at. 

"Late, as usual, Stilinski," Harris sneers. "Hale will show you what to do." 

"Yessiree," Stiles says happily, dumping his wand and phone into Harris's hand like it's an everyday occurrence.

 

Harris makes a sound of utmost disgust and retreats into his office, and Stiles makes his way towards Derek, grinning wide.

 

"Show me what to do, Hale," he says, voice pitched lower so that Harris doesn't hear him but oh, no, that does funny things to Derek's body. Stiles drops his stuff onto the ground and basically falls into his chair, leaning back on it. That should  _not_ be attractive, Derek,  _stop it,_ he chides himself, averting his eyes. All he needs to do is stop thinking about his dreams where he and Stiles are in detention and they make out against the trophy cabinet and grind against each other on the desks. He just needs to stop - 

"Derek?'

He hasn't said anything since Stiles came in, of course, because no interaction with Stiles would be complete without Derek  _completely embarrassing himself._

"We're supposed to stick these labels on the owl tags," he says abruptly, a shoving a pile towards Stiles. 

 

"Cool, I love me a bit of sticker action. Get all sticky up in that," Stiles says absentmindedly, and Derek finds himself snorting out a laugh before he can even think. Fuck. That wasn't even funny. 

 

"Holy shit, was that an actual laugh? Did Derek 'grumpy cat' Hale, Prince of mean eyebrows, just laugh?"

 

Derek has no idea what Stiles just said, so he just raises one disdainful eyebrow at him and replies, "shut up."

Stiles is laughing, and Derek has to look away because laughter makes this  _fourteen year old boy_  look so. Something. Derek doesn't have the words to describe it but it makes him want to jump forward and press him down on to the desk and kiss him.

But that would be a terrible idea, so, nope. Not looking.

"But hey, dude, why are you even here? I seem to remember someone telling me  _you_ are a  _Prefect!"_

Stiles puts his fingers on his face and he's probably - is he trying to pretend his fingers are eyebrows? "What." 

"Look, we can't all have eyebrows as epic as yours, dude, don't judge me," Stiles says indignantly, "why are you in detention? Did you give  _yourself_ detention? That would be hilarious oh my god - "

"I punched Greenberg in the face," Derek interrupts, and he can't help smiling at the way Stiles shuts up. "You didn't hear about it? It was a few hours ago."

There's a beat of silence. Then Stiles waves his hands around madly and demands, "So? What happened??"

Derek feels himself frowning again because honestly he's still pissed off about the whole thing. 

"The Slytherins were practicing at the same time as us and Greenberg was being a massive homophobe, yelling stuff at James," he grits out, flexing the hand that he used to throw the punch. "Given that half the people on the teams are  _not_ straight I don't know what he expected. Coach broke it up, but if he hadn't been there basically everyone would be in detention."

"Ew," Stiles replies, "D'you reckon Jackson will boot him off the Slytherin team? Danny's gay, surely they can't keep Greenberg around?"

"Dunno,"  Derek had been wondering the same thing. The shit Greenberg was saying was pretty unforgivable. 

 

"So basically you're telling me you're a hero," Stiles sighs heavily, the gust of air sending a pile of stickers fluttering to the ground. "Devastatingly attractive  _and_ socially conscious. Where can I get a boy like you?" Stiles pretends to swoon in his chair, almost falling off it with his enthusiasm.

Derek doesn't really know what to say to that except 'please date me,' so he keeps his mouth shut.


End file.
